


WoI Episode 7: What's in a Code?

by MrsHamill



Series: Riding the Wheel of If [8]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Multi, Multiverse, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-03-28
Updated: 2000-03-28
Packaged: 2018-08-19 23:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8228822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: Just an excuse for smut.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As I recall, by this episode I was hitting my stride in the series.

Obi-Wan continued to chuckle even in the light trance he used for transferring. Looking around, he noted that once again, the sky above Coruscant was busy with all kinds of air traffic. _Good._ Looking behind him, he saw the standard Temple, looking suspiciously normal. _Excellent. I think I could use a nice, normal one for a change._ For some reason, the idea that this world might be the one where he could stay never entered his mind. Once he realized that, it gave him pause.

He knelt, once again centering himself. _Thank you, Master Crowe,_ he thought, before gently merging himself into the Moment and looking at himself and his surroundings. The strange Jedi had given him many tips, more even than Master Yoda, and he was only starting to realize how useful they were. The Force was becoming more and more accustomed to him, and he to it; it felt like a comforting old blanket now as his attunement grew. _The Force is using me,_ he realized, accepting that knowledge into his calm center, _for what purpose, I don’t know, but it is. And this is not to be my home. Not yet._ Immersing himself even more deeply, he allowed his mind to float along the currents of time, the past, present and future. _But it’s coming. I will find it,_ he realized. And with that realization came contentment.

Standing, he pulled up the hood of his robe and slowly went inside. He felt the need for further meditation – especially after that last reality and his latest discovery – and also for a workout and breakfast. But he needed to check in with Master Yoda and to see if Obi-Wan Kenobi was here already first.

The Grande Promenade was quiet, but it was early. He went to a public terminal and searched for Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon was in Temple, and had no Padawan. Looking for himself, he discovered Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi was off-planet. _Odd. I would have thought we would be together._ Master Yoda was in his quarters, and to his inquiry agreed to receive him.

Yoda was the same as always, and met him at the door. “Knight Kenobi! Off-planet I thought you were. Come in.”

Over the course of the next few hours, Obi-Wan talked while Yoda listened, provided food and drink, and asked questions. Either Obi-Wan was becoming more adept at telling his story, or Yoda was less apt to disbelieve – whatever the reason, there was little he had to do to prove himself. When Obi-Wan asked about this, smiling, the little Master snorted.

“Grounded you are in Living Force. More grounded than Knight Kenobi has ever been. Different is your aura, too.”

Standing, Yoda began to pace, his eyes down. “Worried, I have been, about Obi-Wan. A great Knight he should be, but much anger there is in him. Anger and frustration, but from where I do not know.

“Worried about Obi-Wan I am, but more worried I have been about my Padawan. Unhappy, he is. Grounded in the Force he is no longer. Relieved him of duty, the Council has, although against my advice it was. Fought much, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan did while still Master and Padawan.” Yoda sighed, his ears drooping. “The same man Qui-Gon has not been since Xanatos died.”

Sipping his tea, Obi-Wan watched Master Yoda. “When did Xanatos die here? Was Qui-Gon his Master? And, more importantly how did he die? Did Qui-Gon kill him?”

Yoda stopped, shocked. “Kill him? No! Why, Xanatos, would Qui-Gon kill?”

“In my world, Xanatos turned to the dark as a padawan,” Obi-Wan explained to the flabbergasted Master. “I take it that didn’t happen here.”

“No, it did not,” Yoda said emphatically, sitting once again. “Strong in the Force was Xanatos, a good Knight. Not Qui-Gon's padawan was he, and killed on a mission with Qui-Gon, he was. Failed to protect him, I am thinking Qui-Gon feels. Long, long ago it was, and thought I did that taking a padawan would help. Know now, I do, it did not.” Yoda sighed.

“Are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon lovers, then?” Obi-Wan asked, and was startled to get as much of a reaction from that question as his previous question had. 

“Lovers? Lovers? Against the Code is this! Master and Padawan they were – lovers they could _not_ be!”

The old Obi-Wan might have let it lie there, but the Obi-Wan who had recently been led around by the nose by the Force could not. And right now, the Force was basically bludgeoning him, telling him that this was the problem in this reality. “Ah. I begin to see, Master Yoda,” he said, his eyes narrowing. Quickly, he rattled off the Code, looking directly at Yoda as he did so. “Is that the Code of this reality?” he asked.

Nodding, Yoda said, “It is.”

“Where, then, does it expressly forbid … anything?” Obi-Wan smiled at Yoda’s floundering expression. “Perhaps rather than against the Code, it is against custom, which is not the same thing, I’m sure you’ll agree. Share meditation with me? I have some things to show you. I may not be eight hundred fifty years old,” and here he grinned at the diminutive Master, “but sometimes I feel as though I have eight hundred fifty years’ worth of experience.”

His expression still thunderous, Yoda nevertheless sat with Obi-Wan and composed himself for meditation. Obi-Wan dropped his shields to allow the elderly Master into his mind, and showed him what the Force had been telling him. Yoda’s emotional reaction was immediate and incredulous, as he struggled to come to terms with the idea.

Obi-Wan gleaned that in this reality, sexual liaisons were permitted, but for some reason further, deeper intimacy, bonding or marriage was considered against the Code. This was particularly so for Master and Padawan, as that was considered almost a parent-child relationship and therefore sacrosanct. In his dealings with the Force, however, Obi-Wan had come to realize that such a world-view actually went against what the Force was all about. He explained further once they came out of meditation.

“In almost every reality where both Qui-Gon and I have been alive and here, we’ve been together,” Obi-wan said softly. “If he hadn’t died in my reality, I meant to approach him on my knighting day to form a bond.” He smiled to realize that he was finally coming to terms with that tragedy and relegate it to its proper place in his heart. “I think it’s possible that we – that they were meant to be together here too, and the problems they are having stem from them denying that.” 

Studying Yoda carefully, Obi-Wan added, “The Force has shown me that love – in all its wondrous forms – is the power which truly runs the universe and all its many and varied realities. Perhaps the reason I’m finding our love … the love of Qui-Gon for Obi-Wan and vice versa … central to every reality I travel is because of who I am. Maybe another traveler would find another pair. I don’t know. But the Force speaks to and through me – for that matter, it sends me where I'm supposed to go – and I’ve discovered it’s futile to ignore it.”

Looking almost defeated, Yoda sat on the log he used as a chair. His ears drooping, his eyes downcast, he spoke in a low, saddened voice. “Much meditation this will require. How we came so far from the will of the Force I know not. Much upheaval in the Order this will bring.”

“Well, if I’m right,” Obi-Wan said, smiling gently at Yoda, “then you have your test case all ready to go. Let me talk to Qui-Gon. I’ll see if my assessment is correct.” He leaned forward, touching the Yoda’s knee gently. “It’s not that bad, Master. At least here you don’t emasculate the pleasure boys.”

\---

It was a grim, slumped and defeated Qui-Gon who answered their ring at his quarters. He reeked of alcohol, and Yoda wrinkled his nose as he stumped into the man’s quarters, unasked. “Drinking you have been again,” he said disapprovingly. Qui-Gon had eyes only for Obi-Wan, though, hungry eyes.

“So what?” Qui-Gon answered his Master absently. “Obi-Wan … I thought you were off-planet.”

“Off-planet he is,” grumped Yoda. “Return day after tomorrow, he does. Obi-Wan this is not.”

“Master, are you sure it’s not you that’s been drinking?” Qui-Gon asked, motioning for the two of them to take seats. He slumped in a big armchair, retrieving the bottle he had set on the floor when they appeared at his door. Yoda Force-lifted the bottle away from him and held on to it tightly.

“He’s right, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said, smiling a little at the byplay between the two Masters. “I’m not the Obi-Wan of this reality. I’m from a different one.”

Looking between his two guests, Qui-Gon said, “I don’t understand.”

“Understand you need not!” Yoda snapped. “Know that it is true, what he says. Know that certain truths, has he shown me.” His ears drooping and his voice dropping, Yoda added, reluctantly, “Know that … wrong, the Council is. Wrong in much, we are.”

Qui-Gon blinked slowly. “All right. This _is_ an alcohol-induced dream. For I can’t ever imagine you admitting you were wrong. About anything. Master.”

Obi-Wan had to laugh at that, trying to hide it as a cough when Yoda glared at him. “Sorry, Master,” he said, but without remorse. "He does have a point. Your stubbornness goes across the reality borders!”

Acknowledging the basic truth of this, Yoda sighed. “True, this is. But not for me only. The Council too is stubborn. Hard to alter perceptions it is, when stubbornness gets in the way.” He looked sharply at Qui-Gon. “Much we have to apologize for. But know that not yours is this Obi-Wan. Explain to you he will. Leave you, I will now, Council session must I call.” Giving Obi-Wan an exasperated look, he said, “Risk all, I will, for love’s sake. Tell me that worth it, it will be.”

“It will, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan replied softly. “The Force wills it. I’m sure you feel it too.”

Nodding, Yoda hopped off the sofa and moved to leave, still holding the bottle. At Qui-Gon’s inarticulate request, he clutched it to himself even more tightly. “Keep this, I will. Need it you do not.” He left the two of them alone.

The two men sat in silence for a while after the aged Master left the room. Qui-Gon finally murmured, “This must be a dream. I didn’t even realize I’d been up all night … so I must be asleep still.”

“You’ve been up all night drinking?” Obi-Wan asked gently. The older man nodded, distracted. “I’ve not been sleeping well lately. Not since you left me, Obi.”

Smiling, Obi-Wan said, “Well. I’m going to make you breakfast, then, and I’m going to join you. Then we’ll meditate, and I’ll help you burn off some of that alcohol so you don’t get a hangover. Then we’ll talk. I have some news for you, I think.”

As good as his word, Obi-Wan made them both a hearty brunch with plenty of juice. Qui-Gon surprised himself by eating most of it, unaware of the gentle Force suggestion from Obi-Wan that he was hungry. Afterwards, the two men knelt on mats, face to face, and Obi-Wan helped Qui-Gon drop into meditation, while he removed toxins from Qui-Gon’s bloodstream and showed him his journeys. 

Hours later, a haggard and exhausted Qui-Gon swam up out of meditation to face only a slight hangover and an Obi-Wan Kenobi he now had to admit was not the same padawan he had raised. Puzzled, he cocked his head to one side, examining the man who still knelt across from him. “You look just like him,” he murmured.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said with a smile, “I am him. Sort of. Yoda told me about what happened with Xanatos and how you and my other self had been arguing. Can you tell me the story? I think I can help, but I need you to open up.”

They sat on the sofa. Qui-Gon started hesitantly at first, then spoke faster and faster, as if the words had been desperately trying to get out for far too long.

“I met Xani when he was Master Apath'na’s Padawan, just before he became a Knight. We liked each other, sparred, talked … and we became more. I think I loved him. But there was nothing physical between us. It would have been against the Code.”

Qui-Gon spoke of how Xanatos became a Knight, and how they decided to work together. On their last mission, they had given in to their passions and become lovers. “One night. That’s all we had,” Qui-Gon said. “He died in my arms the next day.” Xanatos was the victim of a particularly nasty rebellion – one that the two of them had been sent to prevent and couldn’t. Qui-Gon blamed himself, but refused to acknowledge it and so the feeling festered inside him. When Yoda suggested he take another Padawan, he almost refused. 

“I was afraid I could not protect another one who relied on me,” he said, haltingly. "And then I met …"

“Me. Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan said gently.

“Yes. A lovely young man, strong in the Force, who needed me. I enjoyed being needed. It helped fill some of the holes left inside me by Xani’s passing. And you, well, Obi-Wan, anyway, whoever, you were a joy to teach. And when I felt the stirrings again, I thought I could suppress them, knowing that I would be near you.”

“You love him, don’t you, Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Force, yes,” he replied, burying his head in his hands. “But he obeys the Code. That’s what we had been arguing about. I could not corrupt him like that. I will not.”

“It would not be corruption, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan insisted gently. “For I'm sure he loves you too. Let me tell you something … what another you told me.” Swiftly, he told Qui-Gon of the reality where he had been female.

“A female me?” Qui-Gon said, dumbfounded. “What … what did she … I … look like?”

“Much like you do now,” Obi-Wan laughed. “That was the strangest part. She was tall, with the same color hair, eyes, even your large, strong, beautiful hands.” Reaching down, Obi-Wan lifted one of the hands in question, holding it tightly. “She and Obi-Wan … I … had been lovers in that reality. When Naboo came around … she lived. I didn’t.”

“She – and you – I mean – her padawan –“ Blinking, Qui-Gon couldn’t seem to get past his tongue what he wanted to say.

“Yes. But let me tell you what said. She told me that she was certain my Qui-Gon loved me, even though I was not certain he had,” Obi-Wan said, still maintaining his grip on Qui-Gon’s hand. “Because, she said, she could not imagine being Qui-Gon and not loving me.” He looked earnestly into befuddled eyes. “Do you understand? I feel the same way, Qui-Gon.”

“You – you love me? But the Code …?”

“Master Yoda and I have had some rather serious discussions this morning," Obi-Wan said, chuckling. "I know that the Force has been guiding me, somehow. In nearly every reality I’ve visited, I’ve done something fairly significant, helped someone, and the Force has guided me. Of course, there were one or two where I maybe should have stayed a bit longer … but not even the Force could blame me for leaving in at least one of them.” Obi-Wan grinned at the big man who sat stunned across from him. “Remind me to tell you about that one. Anyway. Ground and center, Qui-Gon. The Force is guiding you. As my wise Master was fond of telling me, feel, don’t think. Trust your instincts.”

Tears were flooding Qui-Gon’s beautiful rich blue eyes as Obi-Wan finished. Trembling, Qui-Gon reached his free hand out to caress a soft cheek, and felt Obi-Wan lean into the touch. “You love me,” he whispered.

“When your Obi-Wan gets back, I intend to have a talk with him,” Obi-Wan murmured. “Until then, we get you cleaned up. Rested, fed, exercised: you’ll feel like a new person. And by then, Master Yoda will have bullied the Council. Right now, I think you need rest.”

Qui-Gon blinked at him, his face slowly moving into a smile that was wonderful to see. “I – I think I understand,” he said quietly. “I’ve been a fool, haven’t I?”

“You haven’t had much choice in the matter, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said candidly. “Yoda would not believe that love – the kind of love you and I know about – was not against the Code, against the Force. But he knows better now, I was able to show him. The Force speaks to me more than it ever has.” Smiling in memory, he brought the hand he still held up to his mouth for a kiss. “When I was just a young boy, I despaired of ever gaining control over the Force. You … or rather, my Qui-Gon … always told me to wait, to be patient, that it would come. And when it did, it would be glorious. Now, I don’t know how I ever lived without it.”

Urging Qui-Gon to his feet, Obi-Wan led him to the bedroom and helped him lie down. “Sleep for a while, Qui-Gon,” he said, brushing silver-shot hair from the older man’s face. “Rest.”

“Yes, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon answered docilely, closing his eyes and slipping into a healing sleep.

\---

Obi-Wan had expected to be called before the Council, and he was, shortly after Qui-Gon fell asleep. On his way there, he reflected how in the past such a summons might have filled him with dread… no longer. He fingered the ‘saber at his side. The Force was with him.

And it was. The Council was skeptical, aggressive, angry, outraged and incredulous by turns over the hours-long session. They attempted to discredit him, to disprove him, to bully him into admitting that the story he presented was a fabrication. But the self-possessed young Knight who stood before them would not, could not, be swayed from his convictions. 

In the end, they were reluctantly forced to concede that his control and command of the Force, his understanding of the Force, was greater than theirs. He left them wrangling over what to do and how to do it, saying only that he had left Master Jinn asleep and did not want to leave him alone any longer. It was obvious to him that he had made his point and that the Council would just have to find a way to live with it. Not, of course, that they would like it.

It was late afternoon when he returned to Qui-Gon’s apartment. He checked on the sleeping Master but decided against waking him yet. There was something he needed to confirm first.

Sitting before the dataset, Obi-Wan called up his files. Of course, they weren’t 'his' files, but the voice prints matched, and his other self used virtually the same password as he always had. Great minds apparently think alike. He opened the journal files and began to read.

It didn’t take him long to discover that this Obi-Wan was just as much in love with Qui-Gon as he was. Definitely more conflicted though; many of the journal entries were frantic, overwrought soliloquies on the nature of the Code and how such feelings were wrong, immoral and improper, among other things. Obi-Wan shook his head. This wouldn't be too hard, but he had Qui-Gon to tackle first.

He moved back into the dim bedroom and sat at the side of Qui-Gon’s bed. Qui-Gon already looked better – more composed and relaxed – than he had when Obi-Wan first met him in this reality. It was obvious he had not been taking care of himself – his beard needed trimming and his hair was a mess. The room was cluttered with dirty laundry and empty bottles. _That will be the first thing,_ Obi-Wan thought determinedly to himself. 

The second thing would be to get Qui-Gon used to the idea that loving his former Padawan was not a bad thing. Although that would, in theory, be easy; in practice Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what would happen. And it was fairly obvious from the journal entries that if this reality’s Obi-Wan wasn’t a virgin, he was the next thing to it. The last thing Obi-Wan wanted was for Qui-Gon to drive his other self off by being over-eager or by inadvertently hurting the man. 

Obi-Wan knew what he _wanted_ to do. He wanted desperately to make love to the man asleep before him. But would that be for good or for ill? He would have to think on it, and think carefully. In the meantime, he gently shook Qui-Gon’s shoulder to wake him.

Opening his eyes, Qui-Gon smiled when he saw Obi-Wan sitting by his bedside. “Was it a dream?” he murmured, and smiled wider when Obi-Wan shook his head. 

“No, Qui-Gon, it wasn’t. I’ve met with the Council, and they have come to see the light, so to speak,” Obi-Wan said wryly. “Your real former Padawan comes home day after tomorrow. We need to get you cleaned up and ready for your lover.”

Qui-Gon’s smile faded and his eyes widened as he took that in. “I – I don’t think …”

“Hush.” Laying two fingers across the bearded mouth, Obi-Wan said, “Don’t worry about that now. Go get cleaned up, then we’ll get some dinner. One step at a time, Qui-Gon. One step at a time.”

While Qui-Gon bathed and cared for himself, Obi-Wan straightened up his room, making a pile of laundry and tossing garbage. The room was much cleaner and brighter when the big man emerged from the ‘fresher, clad in only a towel, and he looked around in appreciation. “You didn’t need to do that,” he began.

“Yes, I did,” Obi-Wan interrupted him, laughing. “It hasn’t been so long since I was knighted, Qui-Gon. And Anakin …” he trailed off, frowning. This was the first time he had thought about Anakin in a long time. How was the boy doing, he wondered.

Qui-Gon was oblivious to his pause, searching for clean tunics and pants. “Well, I appreciate it, regardless,” he said, finding clothing a dressing quickly. Obi-Wan turned away abruptly, picking up the bundle of dirty laundry and taking it to the other room.

_I still want him,_ he thought to himself, shoving the dirty tunics and linens into a laundry bag. _But I don’t know … this is different than before. I’m here too, this time._

Pulling his damp hair back from his face, Qui-Gon emerged from his bedroom. “I find I actually have an appetite, Obi-Wan,” he said, laughing. “That’s something I haven’t had for a while. Shall we go to the commissary for dinner?”

“Sounds good. Let’s drop this off at the laundry on our way.” Taking Qui-Gon’s hand again, Obi-Wan looked seriously into his face. “You look better now. One step at a time … remember.”

“I will.”

\---

At dinner and on their way to dinner, Obi-Wan scandalized the entire order in one way or another. He walked with Qui-Gon, holding his hand or arm, and while they ate, he often touched his companion, smiling into his eyes and making jokes. At first embarrassed, Qui-Gon found that he enjoyed the attention even if it did make him uncomfortable. Obi-Wan amused him by telling him of his travels, sometimes actually making Qui-Gon laugh out loud.

They were watched, but from a distance. No one seemed to know what to do or how to react to their easy intimacy, preferring instead to just watch and wait for the inevitable censure. Near the end of their dinner, Yoda stumped into the room to get his food, saw them sitting together and approached. The room held its collective breath.

“Qui-Gon, looking better you are,” he said, raking his former Padawan up and down.

“I feel better, my Master,” Qui-Gon said, smiling brightly.

“Good.” Turning to Obi-Wan, Yoda harrumphed. “Not decided yet the Council has. But going ahead anyway, you are, yes?”

Grinning, Obi-Wan said, “Of course, Master. You’ve always told me to listen to the Force …” He reached across the narrow table and picked up Qui-Gon’s hand. Bringing it to his lips, gray-green eyes met indigo as Obi-Wan tenderly kissed the callused fingers. “ And I have no intention of ignoring it now,” he finished softly, watching Qui-Gon’s eyes widen in shock and darken in lust.

“Humph,” Yoda said, watching the byplay sourly. “Very well. Stop you I cannot. Perhaps stop you I should not. Headstrong you always were. Humph.” Turning, the little green Master walked to the cooks to get his tray, ignoring the astounded babble all around him. 

Obi-Wan ignored it too, keeping the large hand at his lips. “I think we’ve managed to break with tradition, don’t you?” he asked, laughing lightly.

“Obi-Wan …”Qui-Gon’s voice was strained and his forehead was beaded with sweat. “I – are you sure this is the right thing to do …?”

“I’ve never been so sure in my life, Qui-Gon,” was his answer. “We’re done. Let’s go back to your quarters and meditate. And … perhaps other things.” He stood, picking up his tray and taking it to the return slot, his hips swaying in blatant invitation. Trembling, Qui-Gon followed him, to the tray return, and out the door to the corridor. Obi-Wan took his hand keeping it in a tight grasp when Qui-Gon would have pulled away.

“What’s the matter, Qui-Gon?” he asked gently, as they walked slowly down the corridor. 

“I – I don’t know,” Qui-Gon finally answered slowly. “I feel … strange. Are you certain this is not just an alcohol-induced fever dream?”

“Quite sure,” Obi-Wan laughed, tucking his hand around Qui-Gon’s upper arm. “And when your Obi-Wan comes back …”

“You keep saying that,” the bigger man interrupted, palming open the door to his quarters. “But you and he … you’re not the same. Obi-Wan and I have been arguing, fighting, for so long … I don’t think he could see me as you do.” Qui-Gon sat heavily on the sofa, his face sorrowful. “I don’t think he does see me as you do.” Obi-Wan knelt on the floor at his feet, and Qui-Gon caressed his cheek sadly. “He doesn’t love me, Obi-Wan, no matter what you may think.”

“He does, Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft and firm. “I’ve … I’ve done a bit of snooping. He does love you, but, like you, he feels constrained by this ridiculous custom your Council has inflicted upon you.” Qui-Gon was shaking his head a bit, but Obi-Wan wouldn’t let him talk. “Give him a chance. I’m going to talk to him, to explain to him …”

“It won’t work. He and I fought, I said some terrible things …”

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t,” Obi-Wan insisted. “You could sprout wings and fangs and I would still love you,” he continued. “It will always be so, Qui-Gon. Always. Trust me.”

“But … but what if I … Obi-Wan, it’s been so long. I feel, I feel … inhibited. This is not how I was raised to think, not what I was raised to do,” Qui-Gon said, leaning away from the beautiful young man kneeling at his feet. “I love Obi-Wan with all my heart. But I’m so old …”

“Oh, let’s not have that one again, Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan said, exasperated. He climbed to his feet to stand directly before the seated man, feet apart and planted, hands on hips. “You are NOT old. And I have no doubt that any inhibitions you feel you can overcome. I know you, Qui-Gon.”

Still shaking his head reflexively, Qui-Gon’s face was dejected and his shoulders slumped. He was slipping back into depression, and Obi-Wan felt he had to do something desperate to prevent that from happening again. Abruptly, he leaned in, his hands on either side of Qui-Gon’s shoulders, his face inches above the other man’s.

“Fine. Don’t believe me?” he asked, his voice between a hiss and a purr. “Then get up and walk away.” Angling his head, he locked his lips onto Qui-Gon’s, devouring his mouth in a kiss that made the bigger man gasp. Taking the advantage, Obi-Wan plunged his tongue in to taste, ruthlessly eliciting a reaction. Qui-Gon’s hands came up of their own accord, but before they could touch Obi-Wan he broke the kiss and danced lightly away. Standing just out of reach, he unfastened his utility belt and let it slide to the floor with a thump.

“I want you,” he said, his voice low and sensual, a sexy rumble. His eyes locked onto Qui-Gon’s eyes. “As much as he does, maybe more. I want you to wrap those big hands of yours around me, to pinch, to tickle, to caress my body.” His stola and sash followed the belt, leaving his tunic gaping open. “I want you to bite and suck on my nipples, to lick my neck and my cock too.” He used the Force to snap open the buckles of his boots, then toed them off, leaving them where they were. As he shrugged his tunic off his shoulders, he rubbed and pinched at his nipples and chest and kept talking. “I want to feel your cock against mine. I want to feel your tongue on my asshole. I want you to suck me.” The tunic fell to the floor.

Frozen in shock and abject lust, Qui-Gon sat and watched Obi-Wan disrobe, enrapt in the hypnotic cadence of the unbelievably erotic words issuing from the other man’s mouth. “I want to taste you, too … I want you to shove that huge cock of yours in my mouth and let me swallow you. I want to lick you all over; your nipples, your neck, your stomach, even your toes. I want you to hold me down and kiss me until I feel like I could die. 

“And I want you to take me, Qui-Gon.” Opening the ties to his pants, Obi-Wan let them gently fall to the floor, gracefully lifting first one leg then the other to slide socks and pants legs off. “I want you to shove your hard cock up inside me; I want you to lay me flat on the bed or the floor or absolutely anywhere and just ride me, hard, until I scream. I need to feel you, filling me up with your cock.” Undershorts were the last to go, and Obi-Wan had to maneuver to get them past the raging hard-on he sported, but his eyes never left Qui-Gon’s.

Finally, he stood proudly naked, erect and flushed with arousal. “And when I’ve come all over myself, and after you’ve come hard inside me, filling me up,” Obi-Wan continued, his voice dropping to a throaty whisper, “I want you to flip me over and lick me clean. Then we’re going to do it all over again. I want to break your bed, Qui-Gon. I don’t want either of us capable of walking in the morning.” His feet planted shoulder width apart, Obi-Wan reached down with one hand and slowly stroked his weeping erection. His eyes were still fastened upon Qui-Gon’s. 

The world had narrowed down to just the two of them and the temperature in the room had apparently risen several degrees. Qui-Gon panted, sweating under his tunic and stola, staring at the vision before him, aware of his aching erection, his sudden lack of saliva and the dearth of available oxygen. His eyes fastened on Obi-Wan’s penis and the hand that pumped it. Suddenly, Obi-Wan groaned, deep in his throat.

As if that were a signal, Qui-Gon found he could move again. Growling, he leapt to his feet, ripping off his belt, sash and stola in one fluid movement as he stalked to the young man, his eyes frenzied. Obi-Wan never moved, except for the hand that continued to pump lazily. He looked up at Qui-Gon through thick lashes, his mouth parted, tongue darting out to moisten dry lips. They stood in tableau for a heartbeat, then Obi-Wan whispered, “Take me.”

Then they were kissing, devouring, sucking the very life out of each other as Obi-Wan finished undressing Qui-Gon. Not bothering to remove his boots, Qui-Gon shoved his pants down his legs and bore the younger man to the floor, biting and sucking at his neck and face frantically, desperate to taste, to feel. Their erections ground together and Qui-Gon shouted as his orgasm barreled over him, shockingly fast. He slumped for a moment against the smaller body under him, then levered himself up on his arms to look, stunned, into lust-filled eyes.

“I told you so,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Take me to bed, Qui-Gon. Now. We have all night and all of tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

\---

Wearily disembarking his shuttle, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi shouldered his pack and walked towards the Temple entrance. A robed and hooded figure waited for him and he frowned; he hadn’t been expecting anyone to greet him.

As he drew near, the figure walked to meet him, then pushed back the hood of his robe. A very familiar face grinned at him and Obi-Wan’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Wha …?” he managed to stammer.

“I know, I know; stunning, isn’t it? I can explain, in fact, I’ll explain everything. In Yoda’s quarters. He’s expecting us. I’ve got some wonderful news for you.”

Walking just a little bow-legged, Obi-Wan escorted himself back into the Temple, to his new freedom and his new lover.


End file.
